


Playing the Game

by Grandma_Wolf



Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: But I had fun, It's really short, KisaIta - Freeform, M/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Snippets, Tumblr Prompt, brief bit of blood, but nothing graphic, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandma_Wolf/pseuds/Grandma_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every month, Little Red Riding Hood goes into the woods to visit his Uncle. He always makes sure to stay to the path and to ignore any large, dark distractions he may find on the way. </p><p>Even if they do have one killer smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing the Game

**Author's Note:**

> The first of what I hope to be many snippet requests from tumblr. I'll let it speak for itself since it is rather short. Requests for KisaIta AUs are open at 'grandma-wolf' on tumblr!

* * *

 

All he had to do was deliver a package to his Uncle.

A package of meats, cheeses, and bread.

To his Uncle.

Who lived in the woods.

And it was swiftly approaching nightfall.

Itachi sighed, tightening the red cloak he had brought along with him for this trek. The soft fabric held the shade of freshly spilt blood. Many a time had passed with Itachi's parents telling him that wearing such a vibrant cloak in a village where subdued colors were the norm was surely a cry for negative attention.

Itachi ignored them. He tightened his grip on his basket and quickened his pace to a swift walk. The sun had already begun to set over the mountains in the distance, the dip in temperature causing him to pull his cloak around himself.

Stick to the path, he always told his younger brother. Always look forward.

Despite himself, he glanced over to the left when he heard the snapping of a branch. Deep dark eyes followed a large black blur just as it vanished out of sight.

Itachi did his best to ignore it. He knew full well how these woods would play tricks on the mind.

A low growl stopped him mid-step.

Itachi looked around, long raven hair following his motions. “I'm going to visit my Uncle. Just to drop off a few staples to sustain him for the week.”

Itachi walked forward once more, managing to clear another row of trees when another growl stopped him.

He looked to the right. A flash of sharp white teeth twisted into a predatory grin welcomed him before it vanished. “No,” Itachi insisted, “I will not be needing any assistance in getting to my Uncle's house. It may be far but I know that, if I keep to this path, I will reach the creek. And just a few paces from there will be my Uncle's house.”

Itachi jogged forward, determined to end this... not a conversation. After all, who would have a conversation with a wild _beast_?

There was then a loud bark, Itachi stopping near a large oak tree. He closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet earthy tones around him. “If...” He gulped, “If you insist.”

Then.

It was gone.

Leaving Itachi to _finally_ make his way to his Uncle's home.

* * *

 

By the time Itachi reached the large wooden cabin that his Uncle called home, he was full and ready for this small excursion to be over and done with. It was quiet when he stepped closer, save for the few goats around the back who were busy fussing over _something_.

Itachi couldn't let himself be bothered.

“Uncle Madara?” Itachi knocked upon the front door, “Uncle Madara, the night has turned frightful. Please let me in?”

A low, rumbling voice called out from inside. “Who is it?”

“It's Itachi. Your nephew. I've brought some food to tide you over until your next trip into town.”

It took a moment. Then the heavy lock on the door clicked open, the large wooden structure opening inward to allow Itachi inside. The young man did indeed walk in, not paying any mind to the heavy door slamming and locking itself behind him.

Nor did he pay any mind to the old red stains on the floor.

Itachi stepped further inside, making it to the kitchen where a being in his Uncle's clothes stood in front of the stove: stirring at something in a pot.

Itachi sat at the small table and watched the figure.

His Uncle's clothes were a bit tight on his broad, corded frame.

“I appreciate you making the trip out here tonight, Itachi.” The being dressed as his Uncle offered, continuing his stirring.

Itachi lowered his gaze to the being's hand, noticing that they, along with the rest of his skin, was a rich, earthy tone. And it really _was_ amazing to see how his Uncle's clothes could barely hold in the raw strength and power of the figure in front of him.

“Here we are.” The being said, turning around and pouring some warm cider into a mug for Itachi. Itachi accepted it, letting his fingers brush against the large fingers that had given him the mug. “Uncle Madara...” He began, “What large hands you have.”

The being dressed as his uncle smirked, shaking his head. “The better to hold onto a scheming lover with, _dear nephew_.”

Itachi took a sip, letting the cider warm his body and his senses. “Uncle Madara,” He said, “What a gorgeous shade of skin you have.”

“The better...” The creature had to think, running a clawed hand through cobalt locks of wild hair, “To blend into the night with, _dear nephew_.”

Itachi had already dug them both into this game, so he was going to finish it off strong. “Uncle Madara... What wild hair you have.”

“From swimming and running through the woods, dear nephew.” The creature lessened the fire in the stove so it would keep the house warm.

Itachi let his eyes wander over the other's form, standing to his feet and circling the table: his eyes always on the creature in front of him. “Uncle, what strong arms you have...”

The creature grinned, sharp white teeth glinting in the dim lighting as he moved over: pulling Itachi flush against him.

At such a close distance, Itachi could smell the rich earthy tones of the forest... and _blood_. “The better to hold you with, _dear nephew_.”

Itachi didn't think to fight back; he just kept looking at the being holding him. He looked at the sharp eyes...

“The better to see every...” The creature rumbled deep from his chest as his hips were none-too-subtle in rocking against Itachi's frame, stoking fire in the young man's body. “Delectable... Inch of you, _dear nephew_.”

Itachi looked at the creature's furred, pointed ears...

“The better to hear...” The being leaned so that he could run his tongue along the delicate flesh of Itachi's ear. He kept his hold on Itachi steady and firm, drinking in the low whimpers and short breaths spilling from those soft, sweet lips. “Every sound... that you make, _dear nephew_.”

By the time Itachi looked at the black plume of thick black fur that constantly wagged behind the creature every time he whimpered, he could already feel his dick pressing against his trousers. The cider had only been _part_ of what had sent Itachi into the burning, sweet spiral.

“What...” Itachi panted out, holding tight to the straining fabric on the creature's chest, “What a _gorgeous_ tail you have.”

“The better to show joy with, _dear nephew_...”

Itachi barely grunted out when he was pressed against the table, the looming form of this creature standing over him. The smirk on his lips, teeth sharp and wet, was full of the beast's hunger for him.

He... harbored much of the same hunger.

“What...” Itachi gulped, his mouth too dry and too wet at the same time, “Wh-what sharp teeth you have... _Kisame_.”

The creature, Kisame, growled out, “The better to devour wicked little minxes with, my _dear_.”

Kisame finally tore away the shirt that was barely hanging onto his chest as it was. “I haven't the _slightest_ why you insist on playing this game _every time_.”

Itachi sank to his knees, his red cloak billowing out around him as he frantically tried to get the beast of his pants. “Come now,” He whispered, carefully undoing the leather ties, “Wouldn't you at least humor me?”

“You speak of humoring?” Kisame chuckled, “You should humor _me_ for keeping this cabin safe from marauders and thieves.”

It was true. One eve, two years prior, Itachi had come to visit his Uncle just to find him slaughtered by a group of thieves. They would have slain Itachi too if it weren't for the factor of a beastly wolf coming onto the scene, drawn in by the scent of fresh blood.

Itachi pleaded with the beast to help him, offering him anything he pleased. Kisame had killed all of the offenders and had mounted him that night.

And Itachi, with adrenaline soaking his veins and the scent of blood and ash drenching the air, had grown addicted to every moment.

“Who's to say,” Itachi rasped out when he was finally gifted with the sight of the deliciously thick manhood, free of its confines and already dripping; the heady musk of it making the young man's head spin, “That I intend on leaving you wanting?”

* * *

 

Once a month, for a week, Little Red Riding Hood goes into the woods to visit his Uncle. He never tells anyone that his Uncle died two years ago. Otherwise, he would run the risk of losing his private haven of decadence that he shared with his beastly lover. He would be thoroughly devoured each and every time...

But he loved _every_ minute of it.

 


End file.
